AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 435 



hived the swarra on foundation, and after a second swarm issued I shook the bees 

 remaining in the hive into the swarm, and destroyed the combs. This checked the 

 trouble for a time. Next year I had very strong colonies, and increased my stock 

 to 300, securing a crop of nine tons. That was three seasons ago. 



The spring following (1892) many of the colonies had foul brood, and in the 

 autumn, as recommended by D. A. Jones in his book, I shifted them all into empty 

 hives, and fed them on sugar syrup. The weather was fine, but the honey-flow had 

 entirely ceased, and I found it impossible to prevent the bees from getting at the 

 honey taken from them. They drew out the foundation I gave them, and seemed 

 to be wintering all right, but when spring came they dwindled away, and I had only 

 40 colonies left in the home apiary, and 70 in an out-apiary two miles away. These 

 I did not interfere with, and they wintered much better. 



Last summer I had every intention, when the flow came, to adopt your method, 

 but such a season was never known here before. I hope we will not have another 

 like it. The early spring was fine, but in October rain set in and continued day 

 after day until the middle of January, so that working with bees was impossible, 

 and we never had a honey-flow at all. In January and February I extracted a little 

 honey brought in chiefly by the hybrids, about 2,500 pounds in all — the smallest 

 crop I ever had from so many colonies. 



For years we had only the black bee, but I now get Italian queens from 

 America, and hope next season to work out the black strain. I find an immense 

 difference in their honey-producing qualities. I have all along paid great attention 

 to the get-up of my honey, and the result is that my brand is well known in the 

 large towns, and my only difficulty is in producing enough to fill my orders. I have 

 also been successful at taking awards at every exhibition in Wellington, Dunedin 

 and Melbourne, and by request of the Government, I had a display in the Colonial 

 Exhibition in 1886. 



Now to answer your questions about New Zealand as a honey-producing country: 

 The coast- line running from north to south, nearly 1,000 miles, there are all 

 sorts of climates, sub-tropical in the north, and somewhat bleak in the south. In 

 the north are great forests, and all the trees are more or less honey-bearing. In its 

 natural state there are no flowers on the ground in New Zealand, as in some parts 

 of Australia, it is all overhead. The swamps are full of flax, which yields immense 

 quantities or honey, but of rank flavor, and it may be said of New Zealand bush 

 honey in general, that there is plenty of it, but the quality is poor. 



In rich alluvial plains, such as this district, the bush has disappeared, the 

 swamps are drained, and the whole country is laid down in rye grass and clover as 

 pasture for sheep and cattle. The climate is mild and humid. Oranges and lemons 

 thrive, and there is very little frost. The winters are wet, as a rule, and the sum- 

 mers fairly dry, but we have no two seasons alike, and the weather is very change- 

 able. Spring begins in August, when the willows, which line the rivers, come into 

 leaf, and the bees get some honey from them. Then comes such bush as is left in 

 patches in gullies, among the hills, or groups of cabbage palms left in the paddocks. 

 Every year this scource gets less and less, and is not to be relied on. About the 

 middle of October the clover opens, and bees begin to swarm, and continue swarming 

 all through November, or, if the weather is bad, begin November and continue until 

 Christmas. A great many of these swarms swarm again in January and February, 

 so in a good season increase is easily attained. The honey crop comes from the 

 clover, and, as with you, from the thistle which blooms in January. With us, how- 

 ever, clover continues all along, sometimes yielding well in February. Most farmers 

 drive the stock from the paddocks in November, and close them for rye-grass seed 

 until Christmas, so the bees have a good show, and when the machines have cut the 

 grass, if good rain falls, clover comes up again, and flowers better than ever. The 

 thistle honey is certainly the most delicate and whitest we have. Unfortunately in 

 all the paddocks closed for grass seed, they are entirely destroyed, being entirely 

 cut down by the machines before they come into flower, but in the paddocks of the 

 dairy farmers, and along the roadsides, they still abound, and are a valuable plant 

 for the bee-keeper. 



Here we have no fall honey, which is a great pity, as we often have beautiful 

 autumns. This year, for instance, after all the rain, March and April were lovely 

 months, but useless for the bees. Still, in a good season a strong colony will yield 

 70 or 80 pounds of honey, and stores for winter besides. I extract almost all my 



